Kaimoana Tales

by Kiwi

Riley

Part 20

Riley walked across the road, through the narrow, paved, rest-area/car-park, across the wooden foot bridge over the sluggish stream and up and over the bank to the beach.

It wasn't much; there wasn't even any sand, just gray pebbles fringing the long sweep of the bay. The 'beach' sloped steeply down to the water and, from the way the waves reared up and fell again, it looked like it got deep pretty quickly. There was more, bigger, surf in the distance to either side, so maybe it got shallower there.

There were a few big rocks sticking up out of the water here and there. They'd be great for surfboards to smash into. There were no whales or dolphins or seals in sight anywhere and the birds were just ordinary seagulls, far too small to be albatrosses.

To the north, his left, the beach went on forever, so he turned the other way and started along to where the bay curved around at the start of the peninsular. It was hard walking on the loose stones.

After the stream ran out to join the sea there was nothing but a low stone wall between the back of the beach and the road up there, so he went back over, scaling the wall.

There was a sealed sidewalk behind the wall and a grass strip between it and the road which ran parallel to the beach. A long line of Norfolk Pines grew between the sidewalk and the road. Across on the other side, buildings, houses now not shops, nestled between the road and the low cliffs behind them.

He continued walking along up there as it was much easier going now. The pines looked great, but they didn't make much shade from the hot sun; their branches were too widely spaced for that.

Beyond a broken reef of flat-topped rocks, towards the end of the bay, the beach started improving. The waves were breaking further out and the beach was wider - with gray sand even! Would this be a suitable area for surfing? Maybe. There were people out there, swimming, anyway.

There was a naked boy, a teenager, stretched out, lying face-downwards, on the beach in the sunshine, just below the wall.

No. He wasn't naked, of course he wasn't. He had swimming trunks on, brief ones, but they were close to his flesh colour so they weren't obvious at first glance.

There were two girls standing there, looking over the wall at the boy on the beach below them. They were not bad looking girls, if you liked girls, but, who did? Eww!

Well that was not quite right. Riley did like girls, as friends. Some of his best friends were girls - they used to be. But that was all they were, just friends. He wasn't interested in anything else.

Anyway, these two seemed all right, they looked around and flashed big smiles at him as he approached.

Now was as good a time as any to start making friends with the locals. Who knew, maybe they'd have some hunky brothers? Riley beamed his best smile back at them.

"Hey Girls. Great day!"

"Everyday's a great day in paradise," the tall brunette replied. "Visitor, are you?"

"A visitor? Nah. I'm a local," Riley smiled.

"Sure you are. Since when?"

"Since yesterday."

"Oh. So you're the new kid in the Craypot Café?"

"Yeah, I am. How d'you know that?"

"Girls know everything, don't you know? No, actually, my mum works at the Foodmarket across the road from you. She watched you moving in yesterday and came home and told us all about the cute new boy in town."

"Cute? Me? I think I love your mum already. It's a small town, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, but it's a great town. Where are you from?"

"From Pakuranga. You know it?"

"Pakuranga? Never heard of it, where's that?"

"In Auckland. Have you heard of Auckland?"

"Dorkland? Yeah, we've heard of that."

"Oh," said the blond girl. "Shame, the cute new boy's a Jafa."

"A Jafa? I suppose I am. Do you know what that means?"

"Of course - Just Another Feckin' Aucklander."

"Something like that, yeah. Who's that kid lying down there, do you know him?"

"Of course we know him. That's Peter De Groot. The dork has gone to sleep lying out in the sun. He's going to be so sore when he wakes up."

"Well, shouldn't you wake him up or something?"

"No way. Not our problem. The Dork is no friend of ours," said the blonde.

"Yeah, let him burn," the brunette agreed. "Might do him some good. Time we were out of here anyway. See you around, Jafa. What's your name anyway?"

"Riley. What's yours?"

"I'm Lynn Taylor. Blondie here is Deidre Ashton. Will you be going to school?"

"I guess so - year 11."

"Cool, so are we. We'll see you there. Enjoy your new town."

"Yeah. 'Bye Ladies."

They walked away and Riley started walking again. After a few paces he glanced back over his shoulder and grinned - the girls were looking back at him. They grinned as well, waved and kept walking.

'Cool. You can look, Ladies, but you can't touch!'

Were the boys around here going to be friendly as well? He hoped so.

He stopped and looked back over the wall at the boy sleeping on the beach. He was a dork, was he? He was not a bad-looking dork, from what he could see - long and slender, blond hair and pinky-white skin. Ouch! He was very fair skinned. That meant he was going to be very burnt if he kept baking in the sunshine. Maybe Riley should wake him up?

It was none of his business, but he felt sorry for the kid. He could feel his hurt. Sunburn was not life-threatening, but it was a pain - a real pain. He knew what that was like.

There was a beach umbrella next to him, but it had fallen over and the shade was not anywhere near him. Well, except for his feet, they were in the shade, so at least they weren't going to be burnt.

Riley had an idea and he scaled the wall and jumped down to the beach below. He wouldn't wake the kid up, he didn't know him and he might not appreciate it, but he could at least move the umbrella so that the shade was back over him. That'd be a nice thing to do, wouldn't it? Riley was a great believer in karma - no good deed goes unpunished.

He approached quietly, gingerly lifted the umbrella and moved it forward, scooping a hole in the sand to stand it upright in. However, before he had finished securing it, an errant gust of wind toppled the umbrella and it fell sideways. Several of the rib-ends whacked down on to the back of the sleeping kid.

"Oww!" he sat up and glared at the embarrassed Riley. "What are you doing? That flaming hurt!"

"Oh damm. Oh, damm. I'm sorry, it was an accident. I was trying to move it and the wind caught it."

"Why would you do that? You could've just left it alone."

"I'm sorry! I was trying to help you, okay?"

"Help me? Gee, thanks. I'm bleeding like a stuck pig here."

The boy felt around on his back and brought his hand around to inspect the blood on his fingertips. Riley sat back and watched in utter dismay. His good deed had turned out so wrong. How could he fix this?

As even he sat there totally embarrassed, (was there a worse way to meet someone?), he couldn't help noticing that this was a seriously good-looking kid. He might be a dork, but he was gorgeous!

The kid had yellow-blond hair and he was very fair, his skin was pink. His eyes were stunning, clear, pale blue and big too. The outstanding thing about him was that he looked so, well - clean. Of course he was clean, he'd just been swimming hadn't he? But that wasn't it, he just had an air of cleanness, innocence and purity about him, like a wide-eyed little kid.

"Why would you move my brolly? Were you stealing it?"

"No. No, of course not. It had fallen over; I was just trying to stand it up again."

"But why?"

"Because, well I wanted to put it back over you. You were lying there in the sun and getting burnt."

"I was, wasn't I? Oh man! Am I burnt! That was nice of you, - thanks."

(He had a cute smile too.)

"You're welcome. Sorry I hurt you."

"Not as sorry as I am though."

Now they were both smiling at each other. That was good, wasn't it?

Riley scooped the hole out again and stood the umbrella up in it, packing the sand around it to, hopefully, hold it upright this time. The boy sat quietly watching him.
"What are you doing?"

"Obvious isn't it? I'm standing it up again. You're still getting burnt."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Welcome. Just scoot over into the shade now and let me have a look at your back."

"My back? What would you want to do that for?"

"Well you're bleeding, aren't you? I want to see what I've done to you."

"Okay, you can look but don't touch."

"Wouldn't think of it." (But he would!).

The boy turned to face away from him and showed his back - his poor, injured, bleeding and burnt back to Riley's anxious gaze. It was beautiful and he longed to touch it. He wanted to run is hands, his fingers and his lips all over that soft, warm, pink skin. He wanted to lie his face against it and listen to his heartbeat, to feel the life in this beautiful boy.

He wanted to stretch-out and lie, naked, cushioned on this perfect young back.

His face moved closer and closer until he could feel the heat rising from it and he quietly kissed the air millimeters away from the living skin.

"Well? How does it look?" The boy asked impatiently.

"Great! No . . well, I mean . . good."

Riley shook his head, trying to pull himself together. He was drifting off there. He was hard too, as hard as steel. Damm! This boy was sexy. He'd never wanted to be with someone so much in his life.

'Shut up, Riley. Get your shit together!'

This was not just a sex-toy here - an object for his lust. This was a boy, a living, breathing and bleeding boy and he was bleeding because Riley had injured him.

It was an accident, but he was so sorry. He felt like he'd broken a work of art. Damm.

"It's, ah . . it's not too bad. There's just two holes - two puncture holes. One's up nearly between your shoulders, (and what fine young shoulders they were!). The other one's lower down. It's the bottom one that's bleeding the most. You need a puncture-repair patch.

There's blood all over you and you're so burnt. You should have been wearing sunscreen."

"Should've, but I wasn't. I was not planning on going to sleep. My mother's going to freak."

"Do you think?"

"You've got no idea. My mother is very good at worrying; it's what she does best."

"You could come back to my place - we'll clean you up and put a couple of plasters on you. They're only little holes."

"They're big enough to bleed. Where do you live? I've never seen you around."

"We just arrived yesterday. My mum has bought the Craypot Café, down the main street."

"The main street? I'm not parading through the town with next-to no clothes on. No, I'll just go home. We live back over the road there."

"You've got a good body, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a hot day and lots of people are getting around with not much on."

"Yeah? And are they covered in blood too?"

"No, probably not. Tell you what, why don't you get back in the sea for a minute? That'll wash the blood off you and clean you up."

"I suppose I should. But that's going to sting isn't it?"

"Probably, but it'll only be for a minute. It might help to heal you up too. Sea-water is supposed to be good for cuts and for burns too. It might help the sunburn as well."

The boy twisted his head around, trying to look at his back.

"It's worth a try, I guess. I really am burnt back there, aren't I?"

"Like a lobster! Or, a crayfish I suppose."

"A crayfish? I guess you'd know, living in the Craypot Café."

"I just live there. It's Mum's café really. So, are you going to do it?"

"I'm doing it." He stood up and brushed some sand off. "Are you coming with me?"

"No I'm not. I've got no swimming-trunks and I'm not swimming in the nuddie in the middle of the town."

"Why not? It might impress the locals."

"I'm sure it would, but I'm not going to. I'll just wait here for you."

"No nude show then? Okay, I'm doing it - won't take a minute."

The, (very pink), boy ran the few steps down the small beach and plunged into the water. "Whoah!"

Riley sat hugging his knees and hiding his boner while he watched him. What sort of boy wears flesh-coloured speedos? He really did look like he was naked out there.

'No, dammit! Look at something else. Think about something else, anything else. Gumboots! Cow-pats! Hairs sprouting from old ladies' chins.'

He so wished that he wasn't wearing these tight jeans and t-shirt. He wore them, of course, to show off his trim body, but at the moment, the minute he stood up he'd be showing off way too much!

The kid came back up the beach and swung his butt in Riley's face; which didn't help his problem.

"Well? Has that washed the blood off?"

"Yeah, it has. That's much better. Maybe you'd better go home and put some patches on your back now."

"I will. Are you coming with me? It's just back across the road there."

"You want me to come with you?"

Riley leapt to his feet and he forgot about his problem down there. The boy's eyes definitely lingered in his groin area and he smiled at him.

"You're not feeling faint or something, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," the boy smiled. "Really, I am. It's just that if you're with me my mother won't make such a huge fuss about my being injured."

"Okay, sure. I owe you that much. I'll tell your mum that it was my fault and I'm really sorry."

"You don't owe me anything. It was just an accident."

"It was, but it was still my stupid fault that it happened."

"Okay, whatever. Let's go then. You could carry the umbrella if you like." (His eyes flicked back to Riley's problem area, and he kept smiling.).

Actually, it looked like he was developing a problem of his own. But he scooped his clothes up and held them, with the towel, in front of him. "Coming?"

"I'm coming, for a few minutes anyway."

Riley stood up and they walked, together, up the stone steps at the back of the beach and across the sidewalk and road to the houses over there.

"We haven't been introduced. You're Peter De Groot, I'm Riley Sullivan."

"Hello Riley Sullivan. How do you know my name?"

"A couple of girls told me, when you were sleeping back there."

"Oh, okay. Nice to meet you anyway."

"Yeah, nice to meet you too, I think."